by Diane Gaston
‘Why not?’ She tried to pull away. ‘He is waiting in the morning room. I can see him there.’
‘No!’ Lorene cried. ‘You must attend Lord Tinmore first!’ She pulled her along to Lord Tinmore’s sitting room. Another footman stood at the door and opened it when they approached.
‘Go to him.’ Lorene gave her a little push.
Tess entered the room.
Lord Tinmore was alone, seated in the same chair where he had been before. His demeanour had not softened.
Tess curtsied. ‘You asked to see me, my lord.’
His lips pursed. ‘I trust you are comfortable now.’
‘I am, sir. Thank you.’ She remembered what Glenville had said. Make no apologies. They had done nothing wrong. ‘I hope you allowed the same courtesy to my rescuer.’
‘You need not concern yourself with Mr Glenville,’ Tinmore snapped.
She straightened her spine.
He frowned. ‘You have created a great deal of trouble for yourself, for my wife and for your younger sister.’
She looked him directly in the face. ‘The rain caused a great deal of trouble for me. I was in danger and a gentleman rescued me. Surely you can make something sensible of that without a great deal of trouble.’
‘Such as what?’ He stiffened in his chair.
‘Such as nothing.’ Her heart pounded. Perhaps he could be convinced. ‘Declare Mr Glenville a hero and allow him to go on his way.’
‘A hero?’ His expression turned shrewd. ‘You seem immoderately concerned about Mr Glenville.’
Her hopes were shaken. ‘Do not try to make something of that, sir. He saved my life and I am not so much a simpleton as to miss the fact that you are trying to punish him for it.’
‘Punish him?’ Lord Tinmore’s rheumy eyes flashed. ‘He was caught in bed with you. That cannot be ignored.’
‘It can be ignored if you wish it,’ she shot back. ‘The world will believe what you, sir, wish it to believe.’
He stared at her before continuing. ‘You have bedded a man and been caught at it. At least your paramour understands you must pay the consequences.’
Her heart pounded. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He will marry you.’
‘No!’ she cried. ‘He will not.’
He half-rose from his chair. ‘He will and that is that.’
Fear exploded inside her, but she could not allow it to show. Instead she moved closer to him and leaned down into his face. ‘You know, sir,’ she said in a low voice. ‘You know that Mr Glenville and I did nothing wrong, nothing to truly compromise me. You know he rescued me. Saved my life. You know all you have to do is tell your friends the truth. Tell everyone the truth.’
‘No.’ He sat back in his chair. ‘Glenville said he’d marry you and that will resolve matters nicely, with the minimum of scandal tainting my marriage.’
‘Your marriage? Why should what happened to me taint your marriage?’ she countered.
‘It adds scandal to my wife’s name,’ he said. ‘Your mother and father’s carnal excesses are bad enough. I’ll not tolerate more...’ He shook his head. ‘Stranded in a storm! Hmmph!’
She glared at him. ‘You know it is true, sir.’
He waved her words away. ‘You will marry Glenville and that is the final word.’
Her insides felt shredded, but she made herself lift her chin. ‘What has Mr Glenville to say to this?’
Tinmore’s mouth moved against his gums, an old man’s gesture. ‘Mr Glenville knows his duty. He made the offer.’
‘No.’ Her entire body began to shake. ‘He does not wish to marry me. I cannot marry a man who does not wish to marry me.’
‘He may not wish it.’ Lord Tinmore smirked. ‘But he’ll do it. As will you.’
‘You cannot force this marriage on him. Or on me!’ she cried.
‘Glenville made the offer. It is up to you to accept or not.’ He leaned forward. ‘But understand this. For you there will be no dowry, no Season.’
His words were a blow.
She swallowed the pain. And loss.
She lifted her chin. ‘If you choose to break your bargain with my sister, it is no concern of mine.’
He worked his mouth as if unable to form words.
He finally spoke. ‘If you do not marry Mr Glenville, I will also withdraw all funds and support from your sister Genna and your by-blow of a brother. Your sister will not have a dowry and your brother will not see a penny of mine.’
She felt the blood drain from her face. ‘You would not be so cruel.’
He stared her directly in the eye. ‘You will marry Mr Glenville after all, will you not?’
She fixed her gaze on Lord Tinmore and would not allow her voice to show her utter defeat. ‘For my sisters’ and brother’s sakes, I have no choice. I will marry Mr Glenville.’
‘Excellent!’ Lord Tinmore clapped. ‘Tomorrow I will send you with him to London in my carriage.’
‘Tomorrow!’
‘I want you out of sight of my guests. Once they know you are to be married, the talk will disappear. By the time I bring my wife and your younger sister to London, all will be forgotten.’
He was sending her away. She’d already lost so much. Her mother. Her father. Her home. Now she was to lose her sisters, as well.
And to be married to a man who would undoubtedly resent her and detest having been trapped into marriage with her.
* * *
As soon as Tess left Tinmore, she hurried to the morning room, but Mr Glenville was not there. If only she could speak with him. There must be some way out of this.
She waited there an hour, pacing back and forth. Finally a footman opened the door and told her Lord Tinmore wished her to return to her room. She was not to come to dinner with her sisters and the house-party guests. She was expected to remain in her room.
And she was forbidden to seek out Mr Glenville.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Tess walked through the cavernous house, her sisters at her side. They made their way to the front door where Lord Tinmore’s carriage and Mr Glenville would await her. One of the Tinmore maids, whom she did not know, was to accompany her to London, but return with the carriage.
Lorene had been scolding her every step of the way. ‘I gave you the chance to choose who to marry and look what you do.’
Perhaps it was too much to hope that her sister would take her part against her husband.
Tess was beyond defending herself, in any event. She was sick with grief and trepidation. This was the very worst way to be married. Not out of love. Not even for status or financial gain. Mr Glenville was forced to marry her because he’d rescued her in the rain and taken her to a cabin to keep warm and dry.
If only she had been able to talk with him. Why had he not waited for her in the morning room?
Tess could not believe she would walk through Tinmore Hall’s great door into a new life among people she did not know, in a place she’d never been before.
Genna had been in tears the whole morning. ‘Why do you have to leave now?’ She sniffed. ‘Why can you not come to London when we go there?’
‘It is better this way.’ Tess was determined that her sisters not know how devastated she felt. ‘Besides, I will see you in London in just a few weeks.’ Although she had no assurances that Lord Tinmore would allow it. He might forbid her to call. Her sisters might be totally lost to her, as well.
Lorene had been so wrong about the reclusive earl. He was not reasonable. Nor benevolent. He went back on promises and wielded his power in the cruellest possible way. He had better not treat Lorene with cruelty or Tess would—
What could she do?
Nothing.
‘You were supposed to marry happily,’ Lorene went on. ‘Now what was the use of my—my—’ She could not say the words, but Tess knew—they all knew—what she meant.
They reached the hall. The arsenal of swords and pikes and other weapons hung on the wall su
rrounding the door seemed like a harbinger of pain and destruction.
She turned to Lorene. ‘I will do very well, Lorene. I will be a viscountess some day. How grand will that be?’
‘You will become like Mama,’ Lorene rasped through her tears. ‘You will be unhappy.’
She hugged Lorene. ‘Do not concern yourself about me.’
Lorene held on to her. ‘I meant something so different for you. A London Season. A chance to meet many fine young men, a chance to find your own true love.’
‘I will still be there for the Season, will I not?’ She pasted on a smile. ‘Genna will have more fine young men to fall in love with her this way.’
‘Do not look to me.’ Genna wiped her eyes. ‘I wanted nothing to do with this.’ She turned to Lorene. ‘This is your fault, you know. None of this would have happened if you had not married, Lorene.’
‘I did it for you.’ Lorene burst into tears. ‘For both of you.’
‘Stop. Stop.’ Tess could not bear this. ‘We must not fight and, for heaven’s sake, do not cry. I will be fine. Mr Glenville is not a bad man. He rescued me, did he not? His proposal of marriage was honourable, was it not? I will do very well, I am sure.’
She hoped she convinced them, because she was having a great deal of difficulty convincing herself that all would be well.
The huge front door opened and a footman stepped in. ‘The carriage is awaiting you, miss.’
Tess’s heart jumped into her throat. ‘I must leave.’
Her sisters followed her outside.
Tess looked past the carriage to the man on horseback—Mr Glenville astride his horse. Apollo.
‘Is that him?’ Genna asked.
His face was shaded by his hat and he sat stiffly in his saddle. What had Lord Tinmore threatened him with to make him offer to marry a woman he did not even know?
‘Yes, that is Mr Glenville,’ she responded.
Genna sniffed. ‘Well, at least he is not fat.’
Nor ugly, Tess thought. On the contrary, he was handsome and tall and strong, and when his blue eyes fixed on her, something stirred deep inside her.
But he did not love her. How could he?
He had already selected his intended bride, a woman who could be an advantage to him, a woman who had the one thing Tess could never give him—a family reputation free from scandal.
He nodded to her and her cheeks burned. She hugged her sisters one last time before allowing the footman to assist her into the coach.
* * *
Marc followed the carriage, his mood nothing but dark. Anger seethed inside him. Anger at Lord Tinmore. Anger at Miss Summerfield’s sister for marrying such a man.
Anger at himself for not waking before dawn and making certain he and Miss Summerfield were not discovered. Even more, he should have known better than to share her bed, even if he’d done nothing but warm her.
He’d waited as long as he could in the morning room where he’d been served his food, but she had not come. Eventually an elderly butler arrived and insisted he leave.
Not that it would have made any difference, although he might have reassured her in some way.
Damned Tinmore. If the man had stated that he believed them, the scandal would have faded quickly. Instead he’d been unnecessarily cruel. Miss Summerfield did not deserve cruelty. All she’d done was walk to the village to shop. Good God. Shopping was his mother’s primary entertainment. How could any woman be faulted for wanting to visit shops? Miss Summerfield had also misjudged the weather. Well, so had he.
They reached Yardney, the village Miss Summerfield had tried to reach in the storm, the village where she had purchased her ribbons. From his seat on Apollo’s back, he could see her face peeking out of the carriage window, looking desolate.
Fate was a cruel jokester.
If she had shopped an hour longer or an hour less, maybe even minutes more or minutes less, she would not have been on the road during the storm and she would be free.
Instead she was trapped into marrying him.
* * *
At least the coachman kept up a good speed, considering the roads were not yet dry. This trip would take them at least three days. Apollo was accustomed to hard rides.
The carriage changed horses when necessary and Marc made certain they did not resume the journey until Apollo had rested. When they reached a coaching inn in Bourne, it was past noon and time they stopped long enough to eat a meal.
It would be his first chance to speak to her.
He handed over care of Apollo to one of the stable boys and walked over to help her from the coach.
‘Thank you,’ she said. She looked tense and fatigued.
‘Miss Summerfield, will you dine with me?’ he asked.
She nodded.
A maid who’d seen the better part of her forties had accompanied her in the coach. The woman scowled and sniffed impatiently. ‘Will you be needing my services, miss?’ She spoke in an overly solicitous and distinctly unpleasant manner.
‘No, Ivers,’ Miss Summerfield replied in a tight voice. ‘Please have a pleasant repast. Do—do you need any money?’
Did Miss Summerfield have any money? Marc wondered. Had Lord Tinmore cut her off that completely?
The maid lifted her nose. ‘His lordship provided for me.’ The woman marched away.
Miss Summerfield blew out a breath.
‘Well, she is certainly unpleasant,’ Marc said.
Miss Summerfield sighed. ‘That is couching it in the mildest terms.’
Marc did not offer his arm, because he did not think she would wish to take it, but she walked next to him into the inn. The public room was not crowded.
The innkeeper greeted them.
‘Do you have a private dining room?’ Marc asked him.
‘I do indeed, sir,’ the man said. ‘Follow me.’
He led them past other tables and chairs, some with diners, some not, through a short hallway to a private room. It had a window overlooking the yard and a small round table with four chairs.
The innkeeper took their meal orders. Tea for Miss Summerfield, ale for Marc and meat pie for them both.
When the innkeeper left, Marc pulled out a chair for Miss Summerfield. ‘Does the room suit you? It seems comfortable enough.’
She sat. ‘It is wonderful. That detestable maid is not here.’
‘Why is she accompanying you?’ He took a chair across from her.
‘Lord Tinmore sent her to travel with me.’ Her voice was stressed. ‘I do not know her at all. She is not one of the maids I’d met before.’
‘You’d not met her?’ Tinmore made her take this journey with a stranger?
She pulled off her gloves. ‘She is quite disapproving. I suppose she was treated to the most sordid version of our time together.’
‘Why did Tinmore not allow your own maid to accompany you?’ he asked.
She met his eye only briefly. ‘I shared a maid with my sister and I would not ask her to leave her home for me.’ She glanced away again. ‘Had I been given a choice, I mean.’
Damned Tinmore. ‘Do you want to be rid of this one?’
‘It is useless for me to want anything,’ she said.
Their food and drink arrived and he remembered the last meal they’d shared. Sodden bread and cheese and Toby jugs. That day seemed pleasant compared to their present situation.
She looked up at him. ‘Why did you offer to marry me?’
Her blunt question took him aback, but he had to admire that she did not shrink from the topic.
‘It was my duty,’ he replied.
She closed her eyes and averted her face as if his words had been a blow.
He softened his voice. ‘It was the only solution. We were caught in a compromising situation, after all.’ And, of course, Tinmore threatened to banish her and leave her penniless. Did she know that? If not, he would not tell her.
Her eyes grew bright with tears. ‘I am so sorry, Mr Glenville.’
&
nbsp; He was seized with a strong impulse to enfold her in his arms and assure her all would be well. He wanted to kiss away her tears and make her forget any unhappiness she’d ever experienced—
Wait. This would never do. No woman had ever stirred him the way she had done. He needed to keep a clear head.
She took a breath and smiled wanly. ‘Do you think perhaps if we had a long engagement everyone would forget about us and you could marry the woman you wanted to marry?’
Was that her worry? Odd. He’d not thought of Doria since he’d made his decision. ‘I doubt Tinmore is the sort who would forget.’ He drank his ale. ‘What would he do to you if we did not marry?’
‘It does not matter what he would do to me.’ Angry tears glittered in her eyes. ‘Lord Tinmore said he would cut off Genna and Edmund without a penny. He would go back on his promise to my sister. Likely he’d make her life even more miserable.’ She swiped at her eyes and took a sip of tea.
‘Damned Tinmore.’
She glanced at him in surprise.
He took another long sip of his drink. ‘Let’s be rid of him and his threats.’ He leaned across the table towards her. ‘What say you to sending away Tinmore’s carriage and with it that vile woman he inflicted on you? We do not need his transportation to London. I will arrange something for you.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You would do that?’
He grinned. ‘With pleasure.’
* * *
Mr Glenville acted quickly. As soon as he finished eating, he discharged the maid and sent her and the carriage back to Tinmore Hall. They’d reach there before the end of the day.
Tess wished she could see Lord Tinmore’s face when they arrived. She hoped he choked on his outrage.
She’d not expected Glenville to be so kind. Certainly he must resent this forced marriage, although he’d be too much of a gentleman to say so.
He’d never wanted a marriage with love, he’d said, so perhaps it did not matter to him as much. But he did wish for respectability and that was something already lost. How long would his kindness last, as a result? Would he not begin to resent her as her father had resented her mother?
He secured rooms in the inn and found a village girl who worked for the local seamstress, but was eager to improve her situation. She presented herself to Tess for Tess’s approval.
